A/N: A few of you have been wondering how the title of this story relates to the plot. Wait no longer! This is the chapter you've been waiting for.
And a big thanks to Yvonne, who so willingly helped me with British currency!
Courtney
Chapter 4She finished the Denver House project in record time. Within five hours, she had designed costumes for twenty children, sketched them onto her laptop, and had done basic coloring on the drawings. All that was left for her to do was hand them into Firmin, and correct anything he wanted fixed. The rest would be up to the sewing crew.
Christine saved all her work and shut off the computer. She glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall; it read 2:10 in the afternoon. She rubbed her eyes and stretched out her cramped muscles. Meg and Sorelli would be getting off work in a few hours; they would defiantly come and visit her right away. Even though Christine had felt miserable that morning, the sickness had gone away. She felt perfectly normal, as if nothing had even happened.
She decided she would surprise Meg and Sorelli and make them dinner. They would probably be starved after work, and they most likely took their lunch break at noon. Christine went to her small kitchen and rummaged around until she found her mother's old cookbook. She brought the tattered book back to the sofa and flipped on the television. She turned the pages slowly, looking carefully at the recipes to determine if the food would be edible or not.
Christine had cooked quite a bit when she was younger. She had always helped her mother bake cookies or cook dinner. By the age of twelve, she was creating great food for guests and her family.
But then her mother had passed away when she was almost thirteen years old. She had stopped cooking, so her father would have to take her out for meals almost every day.
Then, when Christine was thirteen, her father died from cancer. It had been a huge blow for her, to lose both her parents within two years. She had gone to live with the Giry's until she turned eighteen, when she left for designing college. When she had come back, she found the apartment that she lived in, and found a job at Galatea Designers.
Between the time when she was twelve and now, Christine hadn't bothered to cook that often. For special occasions, though, she cooked non-stop. Meg had always joked that if she wasn't going to be a fashion designer, any restaurant in the city would hire her instantly.
Christine finally found a dinner that she enjoyed. It had been one of her mother's favourite dishes; Cajun crusted chicken.
Christine checked over the recipe. She needed one thing from the supermarket…parsley.
Sighing, she got up and put the open cookbook on the counter. She went and got quickly changed, and headed out the door.
There was a fresh fruit and vegetable market four blocks away from her home. She would run over there, buy a couple stocks of parsley, and head home to begin cooking. Normally, the recipe called for a whole chicken to be seasoned, but Christine had frozen chicken breasts in her freezer. She hoped that it wouldn't make any difference to the outcome. Her mother had always bought a fresh chicken from a nearby farm, but Christine thought that it wouldn't matter.
Chicken is chicken, right?
As she was walking, she wondered if she would meet that man again.
Raoul. He said his name was Raoul de Chagny.
She stuck her hand inside her coat pocket and fingered the business card he had given her. She tried to remember all the pointless dating tips Meg had given her when they were sixteen. They were impossible to remember; there was about fifty of them. Christine would have to have a talk with Meg when she came over.
The fruits and vegetables at the stand were very reasonably priced. You could buy a bundle of grapes and five carrots for under a pound. Parsley was simple enough to buy. They didn't even weigh it; one stock of parsley cost 25 pence.
The recipe called for two stocks of parsley, finely chopped. Christine bent down to get under the tarp covering the produce. A middle-aged woman greeted her with a sweet smile, and moved on to do her job. Christine picked out two stocks of parsley and went up to the counter to pay for them. They wrapped the fresh smelling vegetable in a plastic bag, and she headed home.
She began to cook as soon as she closed her front door. Christine felt alone when she was making the meal; the last time she made this dish was with her mother.
But…I have to learn to forget. Sure, I miss her…lots, but that shouldn't hold me back from what I love doing.
Her quick dicing and chopping skills had been lost during the years, so it took her longer than usual to chop up the ingredients, but eventually, she had the chicken breasts seasoned and in the oven.
The chicken was a quarter done when Meg appeared at her doorstep. She had a small bag from the drug store around her arm, and a smile upon her face.
"Sorelli had a date tonight," she said as she stepped inside and shrugged off her coat. She sniffed the air. "Something smells good! Have you been cooking, Christine?"
Christine nodded. "I thought you and Sorelli might enjoy Cajun chicken tonight, but I guess it's just me and you, since Sorelli already has plans."
"Mhmm…" Meg said as she went and sat on the couch. "Can I see what you got done for the Denver House thing?"
"Go ahead," said Christine, waving a hand at her laptop. Meg turned on the power and scrolled through the designs.
"These are really good, Christine! What else have you done today?"
With a sly smile, Christine told Meg about her meeting with the formal Raoul de Chagny. Christine brought out the business card he had given her.
"Remember those dating tips you gave me when we were sixteen? Do you remember any of them?" Christine burst out laughing.
Meg remained totally straight faced. She looked dead serious when she brought out what was in the small plastic bag. Christine gaped at it.
"Meg, you can't be serious!"
"Please, Christine? Just try." Meg pleaded with her as she twirled the pregnancy test between her hands.
"No! I'm not pregnant! For God's sake, Meg, I'm still a virgin!" Christine sat down opposite from her friend.
"Christine, all the signs are there. Your appetite has gone up, and you've been having morning sickness. All the signs are there. Can't you just try it?" Meg set the test down on the coffee table. Christine stared at it with bewilderment.
"Meg! Didn't you hear me? I. Am. A. Virgin!"
Meg sighed. "Christine, do you remember that party we went to about three weeks ago?"
"Yes…what are you getting at?"
Meg hurried on in the explanation. "Well, you had quite a bit to drink, and a few of the drinks you had were brought over to you. You told me you were going to lay down in one of the other rooms for a moment, to try and clear your head…oh, Christine!"
"Meg, what happened?" Christine voice was edged with hysteria.
"About half an hour later, I found you on one of the couches, but you were still fully clothed. What I mean is some guy might have slipped something in one of your drinks, and then…oh I can't even say it! I didn't think anything was wrong, because nothing seemed wrong, you know?"
"So…you're saying…" Christine swallowed hard. "That I might have been…raped?" Her voice had gotten shaky and quiet. Meg nodded slowly, staring at the test.
"It's possible, Christine. It's possible."